Unforgiven
by phoenixreal
Summary: Ichigo has worked the street for a long time, and he doesn't expect it to change. That is until a blond drives up and takes him home to a life he can't even remember having lost. Rated M for yaoi, noncon, abuse, referenced child exploitation, prostitution and Ichigo's dirty mouth. GrimmXIchi, AizenXIchi
1. Chapter 1: The Lamppost

_A/N: Warnings: Adult content, Rated M for a reason. Sexual situations (don't know what kind yet). No idea what pairings there will be, just had this idea, and had to get it out of my head._

_AU: Setting, modern day US, Midwest_

_Summery: Ichigo has worked the street for a long time, and he doesn't expect it to change. That is until a blond drives up and takes him home to a life he can't even remember having lost._

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**Chapter One: The Streetlamp**

It always starts simply enough. A child with a troubled past finds his way into a foster home, a place that should be safe and warm, especially compared to where he came from. It should be a place of healing that allows a child to blossom and rejuvenate, learn and grow under the careful and watchful protection of people who care about him. But that isn't always how it happens because the world just isn't that perfect, or even that nice. And so it was that a child with vivid orange hair had been dragged into a life that left him scarred. He still woke in the night, screaming, memories of being drug into dingy, half lit warehouses, and forced to do things on camera all for the sake of a the business his foster parents had gotten into and used their foster kids to continue.

Ichigo, orange hair bright in the lamplight, stood on the street corner now, a cigarette hanging haphazardly from his lips, looking around for a prospect for the night. Beside him, Luppi, his closest thing to a friend, stood, leaning against the light pole, his spandex shorts barely covering his ass in the dim light. He wore a weird top that had sleeves that covered his hands. His black hair was pinned back with barrettes, and he had a thick layer of makeup on. Ichigo himself wasn't covering much more, he wore a pair of cutoff jeans that fell to his knees, but had huge holes ripped in the sides and hips. He wore a mesh shirt that hung low off one shoulder, and he decided to forego makeup for the night, despite Luppi's insistence that he allow him to doll him up.

"Man, we ain't had good business in weeks," Luppi complained, glancing down the street.

"Yeah, cops have been cracking down in the girls' streets up north. Spooking even the ones looking for us boy toys," he said, dragging off the cigarette, sullenly.

Luppi sighed. There was a car coming slowly. There was only one reason for a car to drive that slow down here. Ichigo smirked, flicking the cigarette. He grinned at Luppi.

"Let's see if we can't both get this fucker, show time?" he asked, grinning at the shorter man.

Luppi grinned and pulled him down into a kiss, a very rough, deep one, and of course the intent was to convince their John that two was better than one. They parted lips as the car pulled up and a window in the back rolled down. Luppi winked at Ichigo and they sauntered up to lean seductively on the car.

"Yeah, you looking for some fun tonight, sugar?" Luppi said, licking at his lips.

The man was hidden in the shadows of the car but then he leaned up, showing a pale face framed with unruly blonde hair.

"Ichigo?" he said softly, and the orangette froze to hear his name. It was both the voice and his name. Considering that a lot of people knew Ichigo, and came looking for him, it wasn't unusual to match him with his reputation. His pictures and videos had been around since he was ten.

He glared at the blond. "Hey, if you know who I am, you know I don't come for less than a hundred an hour for blow jobs, and two hundred for the full course, anything rough is an extra hundred."

The man in the car blinked, and looked like he'd been sucker punched by someone. "Well, that's…"

Luppi grinned. "And if ya want a full show, I'll come along for an extra fifty. I'm not greedy, ya know, and I like to taste his cock while we get watched, anyway, sugar," he said, looking with sultry eyes up at the orange headed man. "I've even been known to fuck him while he's blowin' someone else. But that's pretty rare, most our Johns want his ass for themselves. He's a star after all," he said proudly.

The blond's grey eyes looked dull for some reason. "Star?" he asked.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "You're coy, coming out here using my name and acting like you haven't seen all the shit I've done."

Luppi grinned. "What were you into? The child porn or the teeny porn? The freakiest ones that come around were the ones who liked the kiddie porn…you look like one of those," Luppi said grinning. The window shot up, and the car pulled away without a word, leaving the two male hookers frowning.

"The fuck was that about?" Ichigo asked, ignoring the twinge in his gut that he should know that voice. "Damn, it's almost dawn, let's go back to the house and crash out before we have to come back, it's a weekend, maybe we'll get someone. Hope the boss ain't too pissed yet. Last time we had a dry spell, I ended up in the hospital for a fuckin' week."

"I found him," the blond said, shoving a green and white striped hat on his head as he entered the room.

"What?" asked his partner, a buxom woman with purple hair. "The Kurosaki kid? Seriously?"

He stopped and tossed a handful of photos at her. They were various pictures of the orange haired eighteen year old, leaning into cars beside a shorter male, standing waiting at the corner, or getting into and out of cars. Every picture he was in a different, barely there outfit.

"Holy shit, Kisuke, he's a prostitute?" she gasped. "Have you told Issin?"

He hung his head. "Not yet. I'm torn, because he said something that I'm scared to even think about."

"What could be worse than finding out he's a prostitute?" she asked, eyes wide.

Kisuke swallowed. "When I knew his name, they asked me what I'd seen him in, his kiddie porn or the teen porn he'd done. What happened, Yourichi?"

She sighed. "First step, call the cops and see if they've got anything on this, shouldn't be too hard to find out if they've had hits on an orange haired kid showing up in their raids. Man, this is what I left the force to avoid…"

She walked out of the room and Kisuke stared at the pictures of the young man who used to be a child he knew so long ago. He remembered those big brown eyes, and how happy he had been when he came to visit Masaki, his younger sister. He loved his mom, and it had been tragic when she was murdered. Poor Ishin, he was overseas with no means to help, and Kisuke had not been contacted and by then the kid was in the foster system. Ishin had little choice but to allow it. By the time Issin got back, he was missing, his foster parents saying he'd run away. He'd been ten at the time, and only a year after his mother's death.

The investigation had stalled, two states away, and almost seven years ago. At the time, Detective Kisuke Urahara and his partner Yourichi had been the investigators. When everything went to hell, and Ishin moved away with his remaining two daughters. Kisuke had followed to keep an eye on his old friend, though he would never have told him that fact. To Ishin, Kisuke had just gotten a job offer with an exclusive private investigation firm. He worried over his old friend. And he kept chasing leads here and there, and when two weeks ago, he overheard a discussion between a couple of beat patrolmen talking about an orange haired hooker that gave amazing blow jobs to cops if they promised to stay off his corner, he felt his heart clench.

But he found his shaking hand picking up the phone.

"Hello?" came a familiar voice.

"Ishin, its Kisuke. I've found him. Come to my office, but don't bring the girls, whatever you do, please don't bring them," he said, resting his head in his hand.

There was a long pause. "What aren't you telling me? Why shouldn't I bring the girls?"

"Please, I don't want to talk on the phone, just get over here, okay?"

He hung up the phone as Yourichi entered. "I'm going down to pick up the files. Turns out there's a lot the cops weren't telling you and Ishin."

He sat there alone, waiting; it would be an hour before Issin got there, so Yourichi might come back first. He was exhausted already, and was just starting the day.

The key in the lock woke him as he sat up, nearly falling off the couch. He straightened his hat, and pulled down the green jacket he wore. Yourichi walked in and dropped a file on the table, a CD slipping out of it.

"I couldn't look past the first few pages, Kisuke, I don't know…" she said as the knocking sounded on the door.

She went to get it and the tall, dark haired Ishin entered. He looked between them and then sat down beside Kisuke, and before he could stop him, the man grabbed the folder from his hands. He tried to grab it back, but he didn't have to, the file fell to his lap, pictures and still from videos spreading out all over his lap and the floor. Kisuke, who hadn't even opened it, closed his eyes, his heart in his throat. Ishin was shaking beside him, and they both saw the face, the young innocent face that had smiled up at him so often, but in pictures that he should never have been in. Almost woodenly, Ishin went through the evidence photos, snapshots from confiscated material in raids. And he picked up the CD, labeled Evidence Case 15765. He glanced at Yourichi.

"It's a copy of the videos that were trafficked from the time he was 10 until he was 17," she said softly. "They knew his name was Ichigo, and that was it. For some reason they didn't connect him with the disappearance of your son, mainly because it was two states away."

Kisuke felt heavy. "You said you found him?" the man beside him said quietly. "He's here?"

Kisuke stood despite the heaviness and retrieved the stack of photos and handed them to the man who now wore a deadpan expression. He watched as he touched the picture, a particular close shot of the boy's face. It was aged, but there was no mistaking the child he hadn't seen in eight years. Before long he was crying, and Kisuke held him close.

"I don't want to go the cops, Kisuke, they'll arrest him," he said softly.

Yourichi snorted. "Cops aren't a problem with him. Let's just say he offers services and the bastards take him up on it to leave him alone. I'm sorry, Ishin. I'm still upset to find out they're taking advantage of him like that."

"Well, we can pick him up," Kisuke said softly. "Something tells me he won't come with us if we tell him who we really are. But we'll have to act the part."

"Fuck, he could have at least have hit me somewhere besides the fuckin' face," Ichigo grumbled, rubbing the rapidly swelling black eye he was sporting. "Fuck, every John is gonna take me for a fuckin' masochist this weekend."

Luppi patted his taller friend on the back. "It could have gone worse."

"Fuck, let's just find someone and get paid before he fuckin' beats the shit out of both us. Ain't our fault the cops are crackin' down on the bitches," he muttered.

Luppi snickered, leaning against the lamppost. Tonight he was wearing a ripped up belly shirt and a pair of daisy duke denims that left his ass cheeks hanging out. Ichigo wasn't too pleased at having his clothes picked out for him by their idiot of a boss. So he was stuck in a pair of leather shorts that chafed and a small leather vest that cut off about where his nipples were. He wore a pair of heavy boots with it.

"Fuckin' Yammy with his leather fetish," he muttered, adjusting the infernal tight shorts again.

Luppi grinned. "Ya look cute, sugar," he said, slapping him soundly on the leather clad ass.

"Well I hope someone comes along soon so I'm fuckin' out of this leather shit and making some bastard moan my name," he said, dragging deep off his cigarette. It was turning cold. No rest for the wicked, though, even when the temperatures plummeted, Yammy's boys worked it. He thought back to last winter and the case of frostbite he had to put up with.

Luppi jumped, pointing. "Look it's that blond from last night, maybe he thought better and came back!"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Fucker, if he'd taken me for a ride last night I wouldn't have a fuckin' black eye tonight. Oh well. We shooting for a double again, or you wanna try and work your own John tonight?"

Luppi's eyes lit up. "Honey, if there is any chance I might get to suck you off or plow your ass, I'm going take it."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and reached down and began kissing his partner as the car pulled up. He popped a hand on his hip and then leaned over the window as it rolled down. The blond with the grey eyes stared at him.

"You came back, what's it gonna be then? Two for one special? Like I said last night, a hundred an hour for a blow, two hundred for the full ride, and an extra hundred if you want to get rough, no fucking blood though, anything more than bruises and my boss'll have your nuts. And Luppi here for another fifty an hour," he said, dragging off the cigarette, not looking at the blond in the car.

"Where do we go?" he said softly.

Ichigo glanced down. "Well usually I get fucked in the back of cars or down in the alley, but some want to be private and there's a no-tell hourly down the street a little ways who knows me."

"Okay, sounds good," he said tightly.

"Hey, cash up front, or these pants don't drop," Ichigo said holding out his hand through the window.

He pulled back two hundred and grinned at Luppi. "Take this back so if you don't find a John we don't get fucked up tomorrow, I don't want yer stupid ass getting robbed again."

The door opened and he slid into the back seat beside the blond. He waved at Luppi as the window rolled up. He looked at the blond.

"Well, what ya want, buddy? You wanting two hours with a blow job, or you wanting full ride?" he said, straightening up.

"What happened to you?" he asked softly.

Ichigo snorted. "What hasn't, man. I ain't here to talk about that shit, fuck me and get it over with so I can get back on the corner and try to hit a couple more Johns tonight. Been a slow fuckin' week."

He wriggled a little. "Since it doesn't take two hours for a fuckin' blow job, I'm guessing you want the full ride deal, eh, blondie?"

He unsnapped the button on the shorts and crawled into his lap, and found himself looking down into a very sad face. He frowned, grinding his hips into the man below him and not getting a response.

"The fuck, dude? Whatcha payin' a whore for, if ya ain't gonna get your cock hard? Or are you one of those kinky bastards? It costs extra if you got anything more than a vanilla fuck," he said, frowning down at him.

The car stopped and Ichigo looked up seeing a building. "Well that's a rare one, your place, eh? Must not be married."

Kisuke got out and Ichigo followed him, glancing around. The driver didn't get out, he noticed. "You rich? You got a driver and shit."

The blond just led him to the elevator and watched as the boy fidgeted beside him, unsettled by his John's behavior and the strange wave of familiarity. He shook it away though. He didn't like to dwell on things like that. It made his head hurt.

Finally the elevator "tinged" and he followed the blond man out and into what looked like an office. He flicked on the lights to find another, dark haired man sitting on the sofa.

"Fuck, dude, if this is gonna be two of ya, the price is double, okay?" he said, walking into the room and leaning against the desk, shucking the vest he wore.

The blond stood near the door, staring at the floor and the dark haired man was staring at him. "I don't do no strip tease shit, that's Luppi's thing."

The dark haired man stood up and another wave of familiarity washed over him. He shrugged it off and gave him his sultry smirk.

"Ichigo?" he said softly.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Yes, look, everyone fuckin' knows me, I've been around the circuit and back over the last eight years, alright? If you were out looking for me, I'm sure you came across my shoots before, but I don't do fuckin' reenactments, so you aren't shoving me in no schoolboy shit."

He looked up to see the man in front of him crying. He frowned. "Dude, what's up with this shit, I'm not into weird shit, so…"

In a second, the man had wrapped him in a tight hug. Ichigo gasped. It wasn't sexual at all, just a tight, warm hug. He knew he should push the weirdo away, but it did feel good to be held like that. But the guy started sobbing on him and he looked up to see the blond was crying too.

The guy pushed him back. "Ichigo, it's me, don't you recognize me?"

He looked at him again. "No, I get fucked by a lot of guys that kinda look like you, I don't keep track, man."

The man took a shuddering breath and crushed him against him again. "I'm so sorry, Ichi, I'm so sorry I couldn't be here when she died, and they took you all away, I tried but when I got stateside, I got Karin and Yuza, but you were gone already!"

Ichigo blinked. "Karin and Yuza…" he repeated softly. "I know those names…"

The man pushed him back. "Of course you do, they're your twin sisters, Ichigo, and I'm your father."

There were only a couple times Ichigo had blacked out, and none of them he wanted to remember. But at those words and locked looking at that man's eyes, he felt the world swim, and then patches of black overtook his vision.


	2. Chapter 2: The Life

_A/N: Okay reading over this, and it is NOT as smooth as I'd like. I blame it on being overtired. Taking a break from my fanfics tomorrow to get some rest and collect thoughts, and then fix this, because looking through it, I'm very unhappy! :( _

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**Chapter Two: The Life**

Ichigo blinked slowly, his head aching slightly. The ceiling was clean and white. He sat up quickly and dropped his head in his hand. Hospital again.

"Man, Yammy fuckin' beat the shit out me again?" he muttered, to himself, he thought.

"Who's Yammy?" came a voice from behind him.

Ichigo turned to see the blond that picked him up last night. His brain fog was starting to lift. He scowled at him and tried to lift his other arm, only to hear a soft clink as he looked down to see it was handcuffed to the bedrail.

"Fuck, dude, what is this?" he said, yanking on the metal bracelets. He'd been in cuffs before, of course, after an hour in the back of the police car with the pig that put them on him, he was wandering off without a problem.

"I asked who is Yammy?" he repeated calmly.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "My fuckin' boss. Pimp I guess, though he hates that name. Says it sounds like he's toting around a bunch of bitches, and he only deals in boy toys."

The blond looked out the window. "The hospital records show you have been here a couple times after being mugged."

Ichigo flopped back on the bed. "What of it? I can't help it my sexy ass gets jumped because they know I have the cash. After all, whoring has been good to me."

He didn't catch the man behind him grinding his teeth. "You don't know me."

"Fuck, man, of course I don't! Who the fuck are you and why the fuck am I handcuffed to a bed in the hospital? Last I remembered, I had a fuckin' black eye and that was it, then I take off with you and that weirdo and wind up here," he said frowning. His skin was starting to itch and he was feeling the need to get out of the room now.

"Are you feeling anxious?" he asked solemnly.

Ichigo growled at him. "Let me out of here, dammit."

"My name is Urahara," he said softly and moved to sit beside him. He reached out and yanked down Ichigo's arm, glaring at the line of needle marks inside. "How long?"

Ichigo frowned, and tried to yank his arm back. "None of your fucking business."

"It would help to know how bad the withdrawal is going to be," he said, letting go of his arm.

He scowled. "I'm not a fucking addict."

That was a lie though. A huge lie that he had been telling himself lately as well. As the days and weeks passed, and the faces became a blur each night, the only sleep he found was in a needle. The only time he could get himself to relax and stop the stupid thoughts running rampant in his head that tried to tell him things he didn't want to hear. The stare this guy was giving him was unnerving.

"The last fuckin' year, alright," he said finally.

"How much?"

Why was he telling this guy anything? "Daily, I gotta fucking sleep sometime."

He finally stood up and left the room, as Ichigo lay back and stared at the ceiling, that jumpy feeling cascading over him. Damn. It was time to hit up, and he was stuck in a hospital bed.

Urahara walked out of the room, closing the door softly and nodding to the uniform beside it. He went to the waiting room where Ishin, Yourichi and a detective from the drug division sat. They looked up hopefully as he entered.

"Yammy is his 'boss'," he said quietly.

The detective, a man with obnoxiously bright red hair who headed vice, groaned. "Great. This is getting better and better."

Issin fixed him with a stare and the red head continued. "He's the head of Aizen's prostitution ring. Well, the head of the male prostitutes, anyway. He doesn't deal with the females because he's too violent. Barragan runs the female side of the deal. We've had to bring a couple of his boys into protective custody after they came through here nearly dead."

Urahara sighed. "He's been using a year, daily. Says he has to sleep sometime."

Ishin closed his eyes. "He showing signs of withdrawal yet?"

"He's antsy, so I believe him. And they said he had moderate traces of heroin in his system last night, so he obviously didn't shoot up before hitting the streets," Urahara said with a sigh.

"I should take him home and get him through this," Issin said sighing.

The redhead shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea, this Yammy's bad news, and after we've put the pieces together, they groomed him to do this. He's not going to turn loose of him now that he's street legal."

Ishin looked up at him. "Street legal? What the hell does that mean, Detective Abarai?"

The red-haired detective sighed. "Once they hit eighteen, these underage kids that have been used in child pornography and prostitution rings, they put them out like this. Before eighteen, if they're picked up by the cops, protective services gets involved. After eighteen, even if they're picked up on prostitution charges, they aren't a minor. So they've become street legal. Doesn't mean they haven't been used as a prostitute for years already, just means they don't have to be as careful anymore."

"How? And why? Why him?" Ishin asked sighing. "I'm taking him home. Station officers whatever, but I'm taking him home. I can't leave him here. I'm a doctor, I can handle the drug withdrawal.

Urahara sighed, glancing at Renji. "He's been in that life for a long time, wouldn't you rather put him in a halfway house until the drugs are flushed and he's somewhat adjusted?"

Ishin fixed him with a stare. "He's my son. I'm taking him home."

"Okay, but can I at least send a couple of my folks that work with kids like him to stay with you?" Renji said with a sigh.

Issin nodded. "I have four bedrooms. I can put the girls together for now. I'm taking him home tonight."

Renji rolled his eyes despite his attempts. "Alright, but wait until the detectives get here, okay?"

Ishin went into the room with his son slowly. He watched him intently as he sat down beside the bed. The boy rolled his eyes. "What do you want?"

"You're coming home with me tonight," he said flatly.

He glared at him. "Like hell! I don't fucking know you from half my Johns. What makes you think I'm going anywhere? I get out of this fucking place, I'm getting back in before Yammy fucking misses me and beats me to death."

Ishin knew that stubbornness. It may have been eight years, but he recognized that. "Its that or you're going into a closed rehab facility and then to a halfway house. You don't have any choice."

The scowl across the boy's orange brows would have killed a lesser man. But Issin found himself chuckling at the look. Which of course earned a deeper scowl. Which increased Issin's laughter. "The fuck!"

Ishin controlled himself. "That look, God son, I remember that look so well every single time you got mad, and I thought I'd never see it again."

He looked away again. "Look, I know you don't know me, and they said you can't remember what happened when you were younger, and you don't remember our family, but I didn't abandon you, and I've spent the last eight years looking over the entire country for you. And I want to get to know my son again."

Despite the anger, Ichigo could feel the warmth flowing off the man. He didn't want to admit it but he couldn't remember the last time he had felt something like this. He knew he would regret it, he just knew it. "Okay, fine. But don't expect me to be someone I'm not. And I'm not fuckin' hiding what I do."

Ishin swallowed, hoping that his girls could handle seeing their brother like this. It had been so long, but when he said that he was bringing their long lost brother, both had broken down in tears. He hadn't told them what he did. Just that he was different, and that they had to give him time to adjust. He got up and left him to the hospital so he could go home and get the girls situated.

He walked in the door and both girls asked questions furiously about where their brother was. He calmed the young women; they were both fifteen this year. "Yuza, Karin, please, we have to talk before we go get him, okay?"

He led them to the kitchen table and sat down with a heavy sigh. "Girls, okay, I'm going to have you bunk together, we need a bedroom for your brother and one for the detectives that will be staying with us for a while."

"Detectives?" Karin asked, frowning. "Why are detectives coming to stay with us?"

He cleared his throat. "They're with vice, and have to stay here until the possible danger to your brother, and us, since we've pulled him out of the life he's been in."

Yuza looked up, her eyes wide. "Daddy, but isn't vice…"

He closed his eyes. "He's going to be going through heroin withdrawal, and he's had a very rough time since he disappeared. Don't expect him to really know you, he doesn't remember life before…" he choked on the words, tears slipping from his eyes.

"But that means…" Karin started. "He's been a…a, no dad that's not possible, he's only eighteen this year!"

"Karin, you don't have to be eighteen to be in the life he was dragged into after he disappeared. He's been in it since then," he said softly.

The looks on both their faces nearly broke him. "I'm sorry but you have to know before he comes here. You won't know him, and he doesn't act like you remember."

Karin had never forgiven her father for being gone when their mother died. More than that, when no one could be contacted immediately, they had been shuffled into foster care until their father returned from his military station overseas. "So because you didn't get here in time to save him, our brother is a drug addicted male hooker?"

She stood up, knocking the chair flat and went to her room, slamming the door behind her. Ishin sat still. Yuza stood up and hugged him. "She's angry, daddy, please don't be mad."

He shook his head, "I won't. Stay here and move into your sister's room. I've got to take him clothes, I can't bring him home in what he was wearing."

He left and he set about picking up some things, jeans, t-shirts, and some tennis shoes. He'd gotten his shoe size from the clothes he wore, and he figured his size was about what his cousin Uryu's size was. He entered the hospital and headed up to the room, and saw the redheaded detective talking with a petite woman with black hair and a hulking man with…blue hair? He walked into the waiting room and cleared his throat. They all turned to look at him.

"Ishin Kurosaki, please, let me introduce the two detectives I've assigned to your case. This is Detective Rukia Kuchiki and Detective Grimmjow Jaggerjaquez," he said, indicating the two in front of him.

The woman was tiny with huge violet eyes, and the man was well over six foot with piercing blue eyes. He had a tattoo of a skull jaw on his right jaw. They nodded acknowledgement to them.

"Mr. Kurosaki," the man said, extending his hand. Ishin took it and nodded.

"Ishin, please. You'll be living in my house for who knows how long," he said nodding. The man smiled, a wide grin.

He looked at them with trepidation. "Ishin, don't worry. Grimmjow and Rukia are a phenomenal team. Grimmjow and Rukia have both had turns undercover with vice, and are quite familiar with the operations that your son was involved with. Rukia is also trained extensively to deal with victims of childhood sex crimes. Grimmjow also has a year under his belt with narcotics, so he will be able to help him through the withdrawal."

Ishin nodded. "I'll go take him clothes and sign him out. He's not happy with this."

Grimmjow nodded. "They rarely are."

He went into the room to find him released from his cuffs and standing in the bathroom poking at the black eye. He looked up at Ishin and sighed. "Time to go, eh, old man?"

Ishin nodded and handed him the bag. He looked in it and pulled out the clothes, clucking as he stripped off his gown and dressed quickly without a second thought in front of the man he had just met the day before. Ishin's heart clenched to remember the little boy that wouldn't even come out of the bathroom in his underwear without turning red. He stood up, pulling down the shirt and Issin noticed long, thick scars across his stomach.

"What did that?" he asked.

He looked down, as if remembering something he forgot. "Fuck if I know," he said shrugging.

Issin swallowed and led him out of the room. He gestured to the waiting room with the three detectives and couldn't miss the way he walked, hips rolling, head up and thrown back. Even in jeans and a t-shirt, he looked like a prostitute. He blinked away the tears and followed him. He stood, hands jammed in his pockets, glaring around the room at the three detectives.

"Ichigo, this is Detective Abarai, he heads the vice unit," he said softly.

"Yeah, I know red here, by reputation," he said and grinned. "You know how many vice guys I've sucked off in the last six months to keep them outta my area? You really should find better vice cops." The red headed detective looked like he'd been socked in the gut, but he didn't respond.

Issin cleared his throat. "Detective Grimmjow Jagerjaquez, and Rukia Kuchiki, he continued.

He glanced at both of them then snorted. "Let's go, I feel like shit, old man."

They left, not another word was spoken until the two cars pulled into the driveway of the modestly large house. Issin got out and watched as behind him, the two detectives emerged. Ichigo stared at the house then got out. He hadn't been in a proper house for as long as he could remember. He stepped out and ran a hand through his orange hair and looked as the door slammed open and two teenage girls stepped out. Both of them stopped stock still. Then, the brown haired girl came running at him full tilt.

"Brother!" she screamed and latched onto him. He stiffened and held his arms out at an awkward angle, not sure what to do with the sudden show of affection. Finally he pushed her back at arm's length.

"Who the fuck are you?" he said, scowling at her. She looked like someone had punched her.

"Brother, I'm Yuza, your sister, remember?" she said, tears collecting in her eyes. He just rolled his eyes and walked past her to the doorway.

Karin frowned. "What's your problem, she's been beside herself waiting for you to come home!" she yelled.

He looked at her. "Well, sweetheart, I won't fucking be here long, so even if you are my sisters, leave me the fuck alone until I can go back where I came from, then you don't have to worry about me, okay?"

He walked past her into the house, nausea and need running through him as he held onto the doorway, hoping it would pass. Ishin put a hand on Karin's shoulder and gave her a sad smile.

"Old man, where's the fucking bathroom?" Ichigo said, turning his head back. "Unless you got some tar to fix this shit."

"Ichigo, come on, come this way," he said.

He led him into the bathroom and waited outside as he emptied his stomach painfully into the toilet. He looked up to see his girls staring at him.

"I warned you," he said softly. "Give him time."

The twins exchanged glances and went to the room they were sharing. The blue haired detective gripped Ishin on the shoulder. "Let me talk to him. He needs to hear it from someone who knows the life, you know, and won't baby him."

Ishin nodded and left to go in the other room to talk with his daughters. Grimmjow opened the door and found the kid going through the medicine cabinet franticly. Caught he looked up, and then shut it.

"If he has anything he's fucking moved it out of here," he muttered, sitting down on the toilet seat and looking up. "I'd give my left nut for a fix right now."

"I spent a long time in that world, kid, and this is a hell of a lot better," Grimmjow said, staring at him.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "What the fuck do you know? Undercover shit ain't the same," he said sighing.

Grimmjow crossed his arms and snorted. "I was under Yammy, running his boys and his drugs as an enforcer for almost two years, so I do know what the fuck I'm talking about. I spent six months in rehab getting clean because I took the drugs because I fuckin' had to. So yeah, I know what the fuck you're going through right now."

Ichigo looked at him and sighed. "Fuck," he sighed. "I don't know what to think. My head's on fire, and I'm so fucking tired. I'd rather take another beating from Yammy than deal with this…feeling. How can they want me here?"

Grimmjow sighed. He wasn't the kind and caring type. He was more of an in your face quit sniveling type. "Kid, you didn't choose this. You were forced into it. And they know it. They're your fucking family, so give them a goddamned break."

The kid looked up and sighed, standing up on shaky limbs and walked out into a world he couldn't comprehend.


	3. Chapter 3: Unforgiven

_A/N: Did a little update and fixed some spelling (gah!), and changed up a couple things my reviewers pointed out. :)_

* * *

**Chapter Three: Unforgiven**

Ichigo sat at the table. A real dinner table. He hadn't really sat at one of those in a long time. The two girls were in the kitchen and was fighting the waves of nausea that came and went randomly. It wasn't too bad, but the sweats were annoying. He felt damp everywhere, and still felt like jumping out of his skin. Ishin had went into the clinic and came back with a pill and a glass of water. Ichigo looked up at him.

"It will help with the symptoms," he said as Ichigo took the pill. "It's not going to hurt you, it's just a medicine called clonidine. It helps with the sweating, the runny nose, and the anxiety you're going through, okay?"

He looked up at the man. "Isn't that like fuckin' replacing one fix with another one?"

Ishin sighed. "No, son, it is not. This isn't addictive, and you'll stop when the symptoms go away. I'm just trying to help."

He sighed finally relenting and taking it. If it would help, it would be worth it, he guessed. The man said he was a doctor after all. He looked across the table where the two vice cops sat. They looked uncomfortable but they were quiet. Soon enough the girls brought in dinner, a wide spread, with rice, several types of cooked meats, and a large bowl of vegetables. Everyone started eating and Ichigo slowly added some food to his plate and looked at it a long while.

"What's wrong, big brother?" the brown haired one asked quietly.

He looked up, a frown creasing his brow. "I don't think I've ate at a table in five years or more. I'm usually on a couch with Luppi or in some John's hotel room."

"Who's Luppi?" asked the dark haired twin.

Ichigo thought and shook his head. "Just another fuckin' whore like me. Nobody that matters."

He slowly ate ignoring the glances until they fell into a silence that seemed endless. Finally, when he'd ate enough, which wasn't too much by any standards he stood up and wandered into the living room to flip on the TV. He hurt. From head to toe, he hurt. He curled up in the corner of the couch and put on some variety show and a few minutes, he was surprisingly fast asleep.

Karin found him sleeping and threw a cover over him, seeing the face she remembered in his sleep. She fought the urge to cry again. She didn't cry. That was what Yuza did. She returned to clear the table and found her dad and the cops stayed seated. She sat down with them while Yuza did the dishes.

"How long, dad?" she asked. "How long until he's normal again?"

Ishin shook his head. "I don't know, I really don't. He's far more damaged than I could have imagined."

Grimmjow reached over and put a hand on the older man's and nodded. "Look, I'll fill you in on his life, okay, just so you know what's happening with him. I remember him, you know, spent two years under the bastard that had his claws in him as an enforcer in an operation that ended up falling apart before it was done."

Ishin leaned back and nodded. He did and didn't want to know. He looked at Karin and sighed. "Karin, take Yuza and go to your room please."

Karin fixed him with a stare. "Like hell, I'm going to listen to this too!"

Ishin rubbed the bridge of his nose. "No, you are not. You know enough, and when the detective and I are done talking, if there is anything important for you and Yuza to know, I will tell you. Now, unless you want to spend the week in your room grounded, take your sister and go."

Karin clenched her jaw. "Whatever, goat-face," she said with a scowl that could rival her brother's. She stomped in the kitchen and grabbed Yuza by the hand and dragged her away.

Ishin waited until he heard the door slam shut and then nodded to the detective. His heart was heavy already. And he had a feeling it was going to get heavier.

Grimmjow glanced at Rukia, wondering how much he was going to tell him. It was his son. But most of the information he had was technically not to become public. But he knew that Yammy would come for the boy. Right now, he felt secrets were worse.

"First off, you don't hear none of this shit, I mean, not a fuckin' word. If anyone finds out that you're in the know about this shit, I'm not going to even think about what could happen. So you fuckin' keep yer mouth shut about this. I'm only supposed to give you the bare minimums of the story. According to my higher ups, your information is limited to yer son is in danger, we're here to protect him, and anything else you have to get from him. But I know kids like him. You're not gonna get anything from him. And I see you want yer son back. And I've fuckin' lost way too many along the way to lose this one," he said bitterly, staring at Rukia beside him.

Rukia nodded slowly. "Yeah, I agree. Way too many times."

Grimmjow sighed. "There's a reason he's the way he is. And it's a lot deeper than being a prostitute," he said frowning at the man in front of him. "The operation is headed by a man named Sosuke Aizen. Aizen is untouchable. Completely fuckin' untouchable. We can't get shit on the man. He's in drugs, prostitution, illegal gambling, extortion, protection, you name it. In the end he's going to be like fuckin' Al Capone, and brought up on stupid charges like tax evasion or some nonsense. He's got long fuckin' arms. He plucks kids up across the country and grooms them for what he wants, whether it is a life of prostitution or drug trafficking. He prefers it that way because they are less likely to turn. Of course, the problem is that with kids like your son in there, who is just now at eighteen, we are just finding out what has happened. We have no idea how many underage kids he's taken and used over the years.

"Yammy and Barragan run his prostitution wings, males and females respectively. Drugs are handled by a woman named Hallibel and her three lackeys. Gun running is done by a man named Stark and his partner Gingerbuck. You get the idea. And the worst part is that not only can we not finger Aizen, we can't get to any of these sub leaders. They come out squeaky clean no matter what because Aizen has fuckin' lawyers for every occasion." Grimmjow sighed, rubbing his nose.

"The operation is clean, swift, and efficient. The only problems have been Yammy and his temper, the reason he's put with the male prostitutes. I'm sure you saw that Ichigo was admitted a while back for some severe injuries. He'd already turned eighteen, and he said he'd been mugged. The second time he came in a month later, we were alerted," he said, sipping the water he'd been given.

Ishin paled at the thought of his son being beaten like that. "Why would he hurt them? I mean from what I've seen on TV, they can't do much if they're hurt."

Grimmjow smiled. "Yeah, but Yammy is stupid. Even a kid like Ichigo with credit and the looks for it, he can't stop himself when there's a dry spell. Both time Ichigo ended up in the hospital coincided with some major prostitution busts with the females. Johns get skittish and don't come around; he takes it out on his highest grossing employee, which is Ichigo from what I hear."

"He told Detective Abarai that he needed to find better vice cops, that he'd…well…you know," Ishin said, suddenly uncomfortable saying it in front of his teenage daughter.

"One of the perks for being on vice," Rukia said with a snarl. "We get close to the areas where they work, and some less than scrupulous individuals end up taking advantage and using them in exchange for staying out of the area they work. Ichigo seems to have been very convincing, especially since Detective Abarai emailed me a list of the cops that were suspended today pending investigation. Some of them I wouldn't have guessed would take a pay off, let alone…" she stopped glancing at the father and daughter. She cleared her throat.

"So, anyway, I just want you to understand what he would have gone through. He lived in the group house that was set up, probably with about five to ten others, and he would have been paired with a partner, I'm guessing it must be this Luppi. They work together, watch each other's back, and become responsible for each other. I've been keeping an eye out for any ER visits from a possible male matching Urahara's description of the male that was with Ichigo when he picked him up. If he doesn't wind up dead, of course," he said shrugging.

Ishin looked thoughtful. "Why would he wind up dead so soon?"

"Yammy will blame him for not watching his back when he disappeared. He'll already know that he was in the hospital, and I'm hoping that no one realizes that he was your son. Since you're a doctor, we put out the word that he was taken to a detox clinic in the city," he said somberly.

"But his life has been pretty much hell. He was still in the underground when I was there; he wasn't street legal yet, so his clients would be brought in from the outside. But I imagine the only change after he turned eighteen was that instead of staying below, he was put on the street and expected to bring the money back with him. The boys start at sundown. They go out; they stay out until dawn, getting as many as they can in the night. They have strict hourly time limits, and if every hour isn't accounted for, they get in trouble when they return," he said rushing a bit through this part of the explanation.

"This means they could work as many as twelve Johns a night, and from what Urahara told me, Ichigo was running between one hundred to four hundred an hour. The rest of the crew he was working with made less than half that for the same thing. The only reason I'm telling you this is because this is why Yammy is going to be trying to find him again. And that's why there are officers outside, and we're in here," he said sighing.

He got up and refilled his glass in the kitchen and sighed deeply at the half finished dishes. He sat back down.

"Most likely, when he got back, if he was lucky, he'd get to shower, but only if he brought home the enough for the night. They used that as a reward. Then depending on how well the night went, they'd be given food accordingly. Bringing home nothing would mean no food, and as Ichigo has a black eye now, for some it entails a beating. Then my guess is he was offered the heroin to keep him pliant, by getting him out of it as soon as possible, but that makes it even harder to get him down. The drugs are going to make the break a lot harder."

Just then he jumped slightly as the phone in his pocket vibrated. He reached down and pulled out the old phone that Ichigo had on him. He looked at then flicked it open. "Hello?"

"Who the hell are you? Give me Ichigo," a male voice said in a hushed whisper.

"Who's this?" he asked.

There was a sound of the phone being covered and mumbled speech. "Fuck, dude, whoever you are find fuckin' Ichigo for me now!"

"I can't do that, he's asleep right now."

There was a frantic gasp. "But he's okay? Oh my god, oh god. Tell him don't come back, whatever the fuck he does, don't come back, okay? Fuck, he's coming back. Tell him fuckin' stay away, or he's…" there was a clatter and the distinct sound of a person being hit with something and the male voice screeching in the background.

"I don't know! I can't find him! Stop, Yammy, I can't fucking work if…" the words were choked off and the phone went dead.

Grimmjow laid the phone down then flipped it over and yanked out the battery and SIM card. He looked at Rukia. "I think that might have been Luppi. Call over to the squad and have them canvas Ichigo's corner and try to pick him up. Short, dark haired guy. Get him out, if he's not already been beat to death before he gets to the street."

Rukia nodded and grabbed her phone and went in the next room. Grimmjow leaned over and massaged his temples idly. "This is going to be rough. Looks like Yammy's trying to find him. I gotta make sure the cover story fits, and whatever you do, do not let him go outside."

Grimmjow stood up and pulled out his own phone and started making calls. Issin looked at his girls and sighed deeply.

_ "Momma, can we go by the river?" the little boy asked, smiling up at his mother. He was so happy today. He'd won a match at his martial arts class for the first time._

_ She smiled down at him, her eyes warm and calm. "Of course, love! You want to see the moonlight dance, don't you?"_

_ He grinned, the look lighting up his features, and almost eclipsing his bright orange mop of hair. They walked down by the river and he watched the moon's reflection and ran up and down the bank chasing it as it moved. He didn't see the men behind his mom until it was too late and there was a gun to her temple. Then hands wrapped around him and tried to scream, but a hand was placed over his mouth._

_ "Hey, there Masaki, how are you tonight?" a gruff voice asked and she shook._

_ "What are you doing here, and why?" she asked, visibly shaken._

_ He pressed the gun to her temple harder. "Well, you see, I've got an interest in that boy of yours, and I'm determined to do something about it."_

_ "Leave him alone, you beast!" she said, only to have the gun gouged into her temple again. She yelped at the pain a little, tears filling her big eyes._

_ The man holding the boy brought him forward and shoved him at his mother, and she grabbed him tightly. He was shaking and tears were running freely down his face. The second man took the gun and stood behind him. The first one smiling at Masaki now. The little boy couldn't see his face._

_ "He's so pretty, Masaki, you know. Too pretty to not be shared with the world," he said softly and grabbed the boy by the collar, yanking him away._

_ The mother wanted her child back but was held still by an arm at her waist._

_ "So little boy, tell me, will you come with me tonight?" he asked. _

_ The little boy screamed and tried to run away, but was held tightly. He heard his mother's screams of terror and then there was a loud bang and the boy stopped, watching his mother slump to the ground. The man leaned forward._

_ "You did this. If you had just listened…"_

_ The little boy dropped to his knees beside the glassy eyes of his mother and the rain began to pour. And the little boy began to scream._

"Ichigo!" a voice called. It seemed familiar. "Ichigo, wake up!"

He sat up, breathing hard and unable to see. He felt unfamiliar and waves of nausea were crashing over him as he stumbled to his feet, feeling the retching sensation. He felt hands on him guiding him and he was grateful when light flooded the bathroom as he fell to his knees in front of the toilet. He retched and half of what little he'd eaten came back up with a vengeance. He finally laid his head on his arm on the toilet ring, his breath heavy and panting. He hadn't felt this bad in a very long time.

"Here, try this," he said, handing him a flat pill. "It dissolves; it should help with the nausea."

Ichigo didn't bother to argue, he just took it and after a few minutes his rolling stomach stopped. He looked up at the man, tears streaming down his eyes.

"I remember that night. And fuck, I want to forget it," he said softly. "Why I fuckin' started the drugs."

Ishin felt his heart clench and he kneeled beside him, hoping that he would say something to him.

He swallowed hard. Why was he telling this stranger anything. "I wasn't worth protecting, not then, not now, just let me go."

Ishin grabbed the boy and pulled him into a tight hug as he shivered against him violently, but from emotion or withdrawal, he didn't know. Ishin didn't say anything, just rocked him back and forth. He was so thin, way too thin, and he could feel every bone underneath his skin. And Issin found himself with eyes damp. This was his little boy. His child, and now he held him, him sitting stiffly and uncomfortable in his embrace.

"Ichigo, why'd you run away before I got back?"

The boy choked on a half chuckle. "I didn't fuckin' run away, ask the fuckin' people who had me why they gave me to the bastards I work for now," he said bitterly.

Ishin tried hugging him closer, anger welling. They'd always believed the foster family. Believed that he'd just run away one night, and now he was saying that wasn't true? They'd done this to him?

"Can I have something to sleep?" he whispered. "I'm so tired, and I can't fuckin' go back to sleep without the drugs tonight."

Ishin nodded and pulled him to his feet. "I figured you might," he said, pulling out a sample package from his pocket and tore it open, handing him a small white pill. Ichigo stared for a minute and threw it in his mouth, swallowing quickly without a drink. He closed his eyes for a long while, then pushed away from his father and stumbled into Grimmjow who was standing at the door. He looked wearily at the larger man and blinked slowly. The sleeping pill was swiftly kicking in on his now empty stomach.

"Sorry, I heard him screaming. Want me to go take him to bed? I'll sit with him the first part of the night," Grimmjow said. "Someone needs to stay with him until he's done with the withdrawal."

Ishin nodded, letting the man heft the boy up in his arms, still slightly awake, but fading quickly into a drug induced slumber.

"Good god, he's light," Grimmjow muttered, and took the stairs two at a time to lay him in the plain bed. He went over and pulled the blinds and shades, then decided he'd change him into some pajamas his dad had sat out for him.

He pulled the wet shirt over his head. It was expected, the sweats were tough at first. He frowned as he looked at his chest, the rips sticking out against the flesh. There were scars all over his torso, and two large scars on his stomach. Grimmjow sighed. He slipped the soft pajama shirt onto him. He then pulled off the jeans he was wearing, arching a brow at his lack of underwear, but then that wouldn't be something he wore to work in. He glanced at his hips, both of which carried bruises of varying colors. He sighed as he pulled the light weight pajama pants on him and tied the waist for him. He pulled the covers out and covered him up. He looked peaceful like that.

His contacts at vice had dug up everything they could on the kid. And the stuff he'd left out was enough. He was often paid extra for rough treatment, and bondage situations. He was often abused and seemed to enjoy it. And now, after hearing the kid, he understood. He blamed himself for something, and he was being punished. Every time a man took him, beat him, or hurt him, it was what he felt he deserved for whatever he felt he had done. The kid was one of those that spent his life refusing to forgive himself. Grimmjow reached up and brushed a hand through his hair, and sighed. The worst kids to work with were these, that he called the unforgiven.


	4. Chapter 4: Withdrawal Hell

**Chapter Four**

Withdrawal Hell

* * *

Ichigo woke up and groaned. He was in a bed, but couldn't remember how he got there, but he hurt. From the tips of his toenails to the top of his orange hair, he hurt. And he wanted a fix so badly that he glanced at the window wondering how much a leap from the second story would hurt.

"It would break something, kid," a voice in the room with him said, making him jump.

The blue haired cop. Ichigo frowned at him. "What the hell you talking about?"

"Jumping out the window. In your condition, you couldn't take the landing. You'd break something," he said tilting his head toward the window.

Ichigo flopped back on the bed and groaned again at the jarring sensation it sent through his body. "This is fuckin' ridiculous and could be fixed really fuckin' fast if I had my kit."

The blue haired cop got up and leaned over him in the bed, causing him to flinch. "Look, you ain't getting it, so suck it up, princess. You're going to hurt. You're going to hurl. And you're going to be fuckin' miserable. Get. The. Fuck. Used. To. It. First week is bad. Second week is worse. And then maybe after the first six weeks, you'll be normal again."

Ichigo glared at the bastard. "Fuck if I know what normal is, asshole."

Grimmjow didn't seem to be phased by it. "Well, you're gonna figure it out soon enough."

Ichigo flopped back on the bed staring up, stomach clenching. "You have any idea how dead I am when Yammy finds me?" he muttered, curling around the pillow, a waved of nausea gripping him.

"Well, I do have some good news. Luppi was picked up last night by my guys," he said and saw the boy's light up.

"Is he okay? Did Yammy take it out on him?" he asked urgently.

Grimmjow hid the smirk. "Yeah, little bruised but he was on the corner when they found him so he didn't want him off his work, so he was okay. He was glad to hear you were safe. He's about in your same situation though with my guys, so I don't think it would be smart for either of you to go out. Between the drug withdrawal and Yammy after both of you…"

Ichigo groaned and rolled off the bed and ran to the bathroom. When he returned he was given a glass of water. "I just want a fix, fuck, this is gonna kill me," he groaned, sinking into the bed.

"Yeah, it feels like it. But just hang in there, and it will get better. And you won't die," Grimmjow said, looking up as Isshin came in.

"Ichigo, do you want any lunch?" he asked softly.

The orange hair looked at him, and the thought of food sent him stumbling back to the toilet again. "Guess that's a no," Isshin said with a sigh.

Grimmjow sighed. "You know how this is gonna go, you're a doctor."

He nodded. "Going to be a rough two weeks all around," he said sighing deeply. "Maybe three by how often he shot up."

Grimmjow looked at the door. "I get the feeling he might get explosive…"

"He always had a temper, and I get the feeling we're going to be getting the rough end of it…I'm going to warn his sisters. I'm…well I don't know what's going to come out of his mouth," Isshin said quietly.

And of course, they were not wrong at all. Between feeling cold and sweating, shakes, and everyone asking how he felt, he was on edge. At first it wasn't too bad, but by the time the second week started, they'd moved anything that could be thrown out of reach in the room he was in. After two vases and a glass candy dish had been exploded on the wall, almost in Grimmjow's face, they opted to reduce the number of projectiles present. To say he was explosive was an understatement. And there was no warning. One minute he'd seem fine, then he'd be screaming curses that even Grimmjow had to stop and consider how inventive the kid was. He'd already broke the mirror in the attached bathroom, and nearly severed an artery when he did it.

He was sleeping and Grimmjow sat in the kitchen with Isshin while Rukia took watch over him. He had yet to open up about what had happened to him beyond his current life as a prostitute. And that usually came out in some vulgar fashion that even made Rukia blush. It had actually gotten so bad that Isshin had sent the girls to stay over the weekend with a friend.

"I know this takes time, but how can one kid have so much fuckin' anger?" Grimmjow muttered, nursing another bruised jaw.

Isshin shook his head. "There's a lot built up inside him, and he's not letting it go. Any luck on his foster parents?"

Grimmjow snorted. "I found the bastards. Pretty easy since they have a couple foster kids now. And big surprise, both of them appear to be suffering from sexual abuse."

Isshin sighed. "Did they tell you what they had done with Ichigo?"

Grimmjow nodded. "Seems like he was the one they thought was the 'prettiest' of their foster kids, so they made a deal with Aizen's people. It isn't enough to pin the blame, they didn't work with names, so I'm going on circumstantial evidence with that. They got a couple thousand and the kid was a 'runaway'. Pretty damn sick, if you ask me."

"At least they'll get what's coming to them," he said softly. "Even if it is too late for Ichigo to benefit."

Grimmjow squeezed his shoulder. "Hey, what's the kid beating himself up over, anyway?"

Isshin looked up and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I've seen it a dozen times. Some of these kids I bring in off the street, and I say that, but I call all the prostitutes kids, because they're all locked into that stolen adolescence that being exploited has taken from them. My oldest kid was thirty four when I brought her in," he said sighing.

Isshin looked at him. "You care a lot about them, don't you? You're on vice because you actually want to help them?"

Grimmjow smiled. "Yeah, I do. My mom was a prostitute, I watched her descend into drugs and eventually suicide. I never found out who my father was, some John along the road, and we were always moving because her pimp was always a hair's breadth from getting caught. I watched her break down. She got picked up, and the cops didn't give a shit, just pushed out the door. They didn't care that she was screaming for help with every needle mark, every John that she blew in the alley. I saw her at night, weeping herself to sleep, but she didn't know how to get out. And not one fucker helped her. She was just another whore to them. Worthless, drug addicted whore."

He sat for a moment. "I never thought of her like that, you know, no matter how many times the kids picked on me. Calling me a bastard son of a whore, or that shit. Never bothered me, let it slide right off, surprisingly. Nothing they could say about her was worse than what she said about herself. And I knew that if I got in trouble for fighting about her, she'd be sad. So I didn't."

"It might have been okay, but she brought a violent John home one night, strung out on meth and coke, and he found his way into my room. I guess I was about seventeen then, almost eighteen if I remember right, and she came running in when I screamed for her, and she broke then. She'd always kept a gun by her bed, and she left and came back without a word and shot the guy in the back of the head. I looked up at her and she just said, 'I'm sorry,' and turned the gun and blew her own brains out."

Isshin sat in shocked silence, staring at the completely calm officer tell his tale of pure hell. How could he be so distant about it?

"So now, I fight for them, and their kids. More than one prostitute has a family, and I don't want them to go through what I did. Bastards like Aizen who are into this child exploitation and shit piss me off the worst. These kids don't deserve this shit. Wrong place, wrong time, for most of them. For some, like Ichigo, someone pushes them on it, but it still is just a case of bad fuckin' luck, just like having that bastard walk into my room that night instead of back into my mom's sheets. For a long time, I lost everything. Fell in a deep fuckin' well, and found my way out with a needle. And it was a man in narcotics that found me and pulled me out. Got my GED, hit the academy, and now, here I am a few years later, and trying to do what he did."

Neither of them noticed the shock of orange hair in the doorway, and neither of them heard the sniffle of unshed tears at what the cop was revealing. For the first time a tight curling pain released in the orangette's chest. Could this guy really help? If that was all true…but he wasn't convincing him, he was talking to Isshin…no father… He shook his head and padded back up the stairs, stomach clenching from more than nausea at the moment.

Isshin hung his head for a moment, then locked eyes with the teal ones. "I…thank you. For this, for telling me, and for helping him, no helping us."

Grimmjow smiled. "Look, you aren't the first to hear this tale, and you won't be the last. I see the pain in his eyes, the self-loathing, self-hatred. Something deep inside he hasn't been able to forgive himself for. Somehow he thinks he deserves the life, the torment, the torture. I've been there, feeling like if I'd just kept my mouth shut, my mom wouldn't have walked in there and killed the guy and herself. I was definitely among the ranks of the unforgiven for a while."

"Unforgiven?" he asked, thoughtfully.

"Those of us that can do anything, as long as it doesn't mean forgiving ourselves for our perceived sins. I don't know what his are, but they're deep, and it will take him a while to forgive himself," he said softly.

By morning, the calm and nearly hopeful mood of the night before had evaporated, and Ichigo was feeling a rage in his chest that he couldn't contain. He hurt, his whole body shook with the effort to move, he was dehydrated but threw up every ounce of water he drank, he was exhausted but he couldn't get to sleep for the life of him. By the time Grimmjow opened the door to relieve the dozing Rukia, his anger had hit the boiling point. He had no idea why, but as soon as the blue haired cop opened his mouth to say good morning, he was pissed.

He flew at him, snarling and landed a heavy right hook into his jaw, stunning the larger man for second, as if he wasn't sure if this snarling fury was actually the strung out addict he was trying to help. He stepped back, Rukia jolting awake fully and staring as Ichigo tried to land another solid punch, only to have his wrist grabbed and twisted behind his back in a nearly effortless move by the larger man. He snarled and started to say something, then he simply crumpled to the floor, exhausted by the effort. Grimmjow held to the fragile wrist, seeing the fight dissipate and sighed. Well, it had taken a while for that type of violence to come out.

"Hey, come on, let's get you back to bed, okay? Looks like you haven't slept," he said, gently pulling him to his feet, still holding the wrist he'd caught. He just nodded and slid under the covers, completely overcome by the exhaustion sweeping his form.

Rukia shook her head. "Man, he's gonna come down sometime, huh?"

"He will, just gotta give him time to do it," he said heading back downstairs.

What greeted him was a pale faced Isshin, holding the phone in shaking hands. He looked at Grimmjow.

"He-He has Karin and Yuzu…" he whispered. "Said that if Ichigo isn't returned by midnight, he's going to kill them…"

And just like that, the whole day went to shit. Soon enough the house was full of people, and Isshin sat wide eyed and shocked at the table. Grimmjow barked orders, sending teams to the likely hideout locations. The caller hadn't identified himself. He'd only given the instructions, and the call came from a disposable cell phone, making it untraceable. As the house buzzed with talk and people discussing things, Ichigo heard them.

He made his way to the door, pressing his ear against it, hearing voices he didn't recognize.

"Dude, how much trouble for one fuckin' whore?" a deep male voice said.

A snort replied. "Well, it is his fuckin' kid, you know."

"But damn, just take the hooker back, and get this shit over with. Not like he'll mind being put out as long as he gets a needle in his arm like half the sluts on my beat up north."

Again the snicker. "This fucker is somethin', though. He's the reason Rasaw and Chida got canned. Turns out he was turnin' tricks to keep them off his beat."

"No shit? Wow. Oh well, why the fuck we up here again?"

"Sposed to watch the little whoreling. Guess they're worried he'll wanna go find a stash of china white or someone to bury his cock in him."

"Huh, well, if it were my kid, I'd drag his whoring ass back out and get my daughters back. His worthless life ain't worth those two girls," he said with a huff.

"Damn shame if Yammy kills those girls over this little slut, huh?"

Ichigo stepped back from the door, frozen at what he'd just heard. Yammy had his sisters. And they hadn't told him. His heart began to race, imagining what they would do to them. Yammy would put them in the basement… He started to panic. But if he went back, it would start all over, and maybe he would die this time. But he couldn't let them die for him. He was worthless, after all. A whore and slut that loved the life he lived, right?

He shook his head, making up his mind. He headed to the window and shoved it up, knocking the screen clear and looking down. It was a little more than a story, the basement raising it a little. So a twelve foot drop. He looked back in the room and found a paper and a pen to let them know not to follow him. He didn't want anyone else to get hurt for someone like him. No, if he died, so much the better. No more pain, no more longing for something he couldn't have.

He tossed the covers from the bed down first, maybe giving him some cushion, hell he'd never jumped out a two story window before. He sighed and dropped, trying to land and roll, but he felt his ankle give painfully. He groaned, unsure if he broke it or if it was sprained. Didn't matter. He had no shoes, and he was wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans, but he would be damned if anyone else go hurt over him. He just plain wasn't worth that.

Needless to say, when Grimmjow came up the stairs and heard the conversation between the two uniforms in the hallway, he saw red. He only caught a little as he went up the stairs about giving up Ichigo in return for his sisters, and how much it was a waste to try and save him. He fixed both officers with a glare of daggers.

"The fuck are you doing talking like that in front of the kid's room?"

They exchanged a look. "He's fuckin' asleep, man, he can't hear us," the tall blond one argued.

Grimmjow shoved them both out of the way and swung the door open, met with a blast of warm air and an empty room. A single paper fluttered in the empty bed. He walked over and picked it up, feeling the scrutiny of the two pair of eyes on his back. He turned back and glared at them.

"Consider your position in vice done. And if you're lucky, you may be given parking meter duty by the time I am done with your worthless asses," he said, his voice dangerous as he shoved them both out of the way and headed down the stairs.

"We got a fuckin' problem," He said, dropping the hastily scrawled not on the table.

_Don't worry about Karin and Yuzu. They don't deserve this. I'll get them to let them go. No one should suffer for me, and I'm the one he wants. Thanks for trying, for a moment, just a moment, I kinda though I could be normal. Thanks for that. One moment is better than none._

Ishin looked up with wide eyes. "What happened?"

Grimmjow's jaw was set as he turned and looked at the two officers standing behind him. His chest rose a he clenched a fist, but Rukia was faster. She could tell by the look her partner was giving that the two at fault were behind him. Before either man could react, one had a small but strong fist planted in his gut, and the other had an equally fast knee to the groin. They both crumpled, and Grimmjow allowed himself a snort.

"Alright, we got a man hunt. Find this kid, but don't pick him up," he said softly.

All eyes turned to him. "I didn't want to ask him for this, but he's probably the only one that can lead us to where they are. So we find him, we follow him, and when he gets there, we go in and get all three out. Everyone, out and keep in radio contact! Plain clothes and unmarked only!"


	5. Chapter 5: Botched Rescue

**Chapter Five**

Botched Rescue

* * *

Yammy was incredibly proud of himself. He had no only managed to sniff out his best whore's location, but found out he had two sisters. And not only that, he had managed to kidnap said sisters without a single bruise! That was a huge thing for the large, barely contained man. He was like rage on legs, to be honest. It was all he could do to make it through a day without wanting to smash in someone's head.

One could say he had anger management issues. Just a bit.

Either way, he eyed the two girls, both obviously scared, but they were quiet. Their hands were bound behind them with a pair of handcuffs that secured them to the bolted metal chairs they sat in. The raven haired one eyed him without a hint of fear, while the more timid brown haired one looked around franticly. Serioulsy, if they knew he was after their brother, why would they let them do something so incredibly stupid is go to the movies with friends? Plucking them from the dark theater had been very easy, with the 22 caliber motivation he had in his waistband.

"He won't come," the ravenette said coolly. "Our dad won't give him up just because of this. He's not going to abandon him like that."

"Karin, please, don't agitate him," the brunette said softly.

"Like hell, Yuzu. This is the fucking bastard that did this to our brother, that turned him into what he is now. Our brother," she said glaring at him.

Yammy snickered. "I can tell you're the spitfire's sister. He was like that at first. All insults, scowling and biting. I remember when they dragged him in here by the hair. He fought like a mad dog. He managed to tear a chunk outta his handler's hand. Of course, the beating he got for that almost made us think he was gonna to die before we started whoring him out."

Karin swallowed. That had been the brother she remembered. Temperamental, violent at times, lashing out, and getting into fights with older kids because they didn't like his loud orange hair. "You are sick. All of you. How could you do that to a kid like he was?"

Yammy grinned, leaning back. "Oh, but the feisty ones are the best on camera, you know. And after the third or fourth time he got thrown in the hole for being too violent, he stopped fighting so much. Not like I blame him."

"The hole?" Karin whispered softly.

Yammy grinned. "Yeah, where the toss the unruly ones for some lessons from their betters. They love fresh, unbroken ones. Just a room, no windows, one door, and a lot of things to play with. I visited him once in the hole. I certainly loved laying into that pretty little back with a whip for an hour or two. Wasn't a lot of fun though once he passed out."

The huge man turned and grinned at the two girls. "While we're waiting, want to see what got your brother his top slot in my gig?"

Karin swallowed and looked at Yuzu. The look on his face was scary, and he started to chuckle. He flicked on a light revealing a large living area complete with a flat screen TV mounted to the wall. Beside it was a built in shelf with tons of black DVD cases with writing on the spine. He looked around.

"I…I… Ichigo!" he said, pulling one out triumphantly. "Early days, back when he was such a little spit fire we had to tie him down every movie…"

To the horror of the twins, their nightmare was just beginning. Never, in their fifteen years, could they imagine the things they saw as Yammy took absolute delight in showing them what their brother was put through. He would stand off to the side and explain things while the girls simply sat agape at what they were seeing, unbelieving. Aside from the obvious nature of the recordings, Karin watched as her bright, explosive brother slowly became complainant, docile, and did what was asked without question. And then slowly, became a willing participant, less fighting, less bruises. But Karin saw the needle marks and bruises here and there at different times.

"You drugged him to get him like that…" Karin said, looking up at him.

Yammy grinned. The girl was smart. "Only when he decided to get resistant again. A few days in the hole with some opiates always settled him down. You know it is a process, to break someone like this and turn them into what he became, standing on the street turning tricks and giving blow jobs to cops so they'd leave his corner alone. He was a fighter though, it took so damn long, we wondered if it would just be better to slit his damn throat than deal with him."

Yammy thankfully clicked off the TV, a movie of Ichigo's near current visage disappearing. The light was fading. It had been almost noon when they were brought in. Yuzu was crying openly, hurting deeply for what she knew had happened to her big brother. Yammy was quite enjoying himself. He never knew that this kind of torture was so damn much fun. The anger across the raven haired girl's face was so much like her brother.

He walked over and grabbed her chin in a painful grip, forcing her to look at him. "If I didn't want your brother back so much, I would love to take you downstairs and break you in myself."

"But you won't," came a voice from the doorway.

Yammy stood up and glared at the brunette newcomer. "Yes, Aizen, sir," he said tightly.

Aizen came forward and looked over the two girls. "I suppose it is a shame, both of them are lovely. But I want Ichigo back. And this time I'll take him with me, since no doubt he's ready for the next stage. Especially if he comes back willingly."

Karin frowned. "Next stage? Who are you anyway and what are you going to do to my brother?"

"I'm Sosuke Aizen, and Yammy works for me. I picked out the little gem of your brother out myself a long time ago, right before I had your mother killed. So convenient, right? No, not convenience. I don't kidnap my boys and girls, I rescue runaways, you know. They are brought to me. My connections making the perfect placements and then a few buy outs here and there, and I'm landed with a perfectly moldable whore. But your brother was different. I wanted him for myself, and now, since he can't stay here and make money for me, I'll take him with me when I leave the country tonight," he said, flipping his hair from his face.

Neither girl could speak. This guy had just confessed to having their mother killed. He turned back. "Imagine your brother's surprise when he found himself handed off to the very men he watched murder his sweet mommy. It was no wonder he tried to bite his handler's hand off that first night."

Karin frowned deeply. "Why are you telling us this?"

The man turned around. "Well, because once I have your brother, Yammy is going to kill you both. Your use will have run out, and I can't have my sweet Ichigo thinking he has anything to come back to. He's a useless slut, and his dad didn't even bother to look for him then, and he won't look for him now in the midst of grieving over his daughters. And his dad will blame him forever for getting his daughter's killed. And Ichigo will _know _that every day he lives, laid out beside me or chained at my feet."

Yuzu's face darkened. "Kill us, but our dad won't blame Ichigo! Not one bit!"

Aizen grinned. "Oh? Well, Ichigo won't know that. He'll get what information I give him. And he'll get the messages I give him, the letters written to him, as I tell him his father knows where he is, and doesn't care. And then, I'll be all there is for him. His comfort, his heaven and his hell all in one."

There was a bang further away.

"I think he's arrived."

"We've got him, Grimmjow!" the speaker squawked in the car. Grimmjow grabbed it. "Where?"

A few minutes later he was following on foot, keeping the boy just within his range of vision. That orange hair stuck out like sore thumb, for sure. He held his baretta against his chest and watched as he limped toward a plain looking house. He'd obviously hurt himself in his exit from the house, and Grimmjow grit his teeth against the desire to just go grab the boy. He looked up as he passed some perimeter and a flashlight shone on him. A man walked up and grabbed him roughly and practically dragged him into a door at the side of the house.

Grimmjow looked around and saw two more men, attempting to look casual as they made an obvious patrol patter. He could make the outline of handguns in their waistbands from him. He made his way back away from the place as carefully as he could. Once he was clear he ran back to the car.

"I've got a location," he said softly into the radio. "I need a full team. Three known outside, unknown number inside. Target was taken into the house. No confirmations of target two and three."

He followed out with the information and now he had to wait. He chewed the inside of his mouth and hoped to all the gods in the world that they didn't reach them too late.

Ichigo winced as the bruising grip the bastard had on his arm let up, throwing him into a room. He groaned and glanced behind him. "Fuck you," he called back and turned to see where he'd been brought.

"Hello, Ichigo, did you miss me?"

He nearly hyperventilated at the sight of the brunette bastard that had been around since day one. The first one he'd ever been used by. And every year he'd show up again. "Aizen," he practically growled.

Yammy stood against the wall behind the two chairs where his sisters were shackled. He felt his heart rise, seeing they weren't downstairs, and they weren't hurt in any way. He swallowed convulsively.

"Fuckin' let them go, I'm here," he said and forced his hands into his pockets to hide the shaking.

Yammy grinned. "Your little sisters sure enjoyed your work."

Ichigo's head shot up and he stared with unabashed horror. "What? You fuckin' made them…you son of a bitch, I'll fuckin' kill you…"

And without warning, the thin, strung out boy was slamming into the man twice his size, rattling the windows behind him when he bounced off them and onto the floor. He screamed as he tried desperately to strangle that huge neck with both hands. His eyes were wide and frantic as he pressed as hard as shaking muscles would let him, and he heard a string of curses coming from his lips directed at the bastard. He heard the laughter from behind him for a second before a booted foot connected with the side of his head, sending him sprawling into the back of the chairs the two girls were chained.

"Now, now, Ichigo, I'll have to punish you for that," Aizen said, walking past the gasping Yammy, who was quite shocked at actually being taken to the ground by the skinny brat.

Aizen reached down and pulled him to his feet. He teetered dangerously, the world swimming, and blood flowing from the cut above his left temple. He groaned as his head fell back. "I wasn't going to do this in front of your sisters, but you know, maybe this will get you under control again."

He tossed him to the floor in front of the girls, his vision still fading in and out. "How long has it been, Ichigo? Since we've spent quality time together?" Aizen said, dropping to the floor over the semi-conscious form. He then suddenly applied a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"You were always my best and favorite little whore. You know, no one else let themselves be beat quite like you did. So many times I got calls about what a good little slut you were, doing anything they asked, if they paid enough. I know why, do you know why? Why you liked being hurt so much?" he breathed, leaning over him and pressing down into him.

"Fuck you, Aizen," he muttered groggily, fighting to clear the haze from his brain. It was clearing, slowly.

Aizen smiled. "See, that defiance, we can't have that where we're going. And I can't have you trying to run again like last time I moved locations with you. You remember that?"

The man stood up, staring down at him thoughtfully. "Hrm, well, looks like you injured an ankle. Let's just be sure."

He stood up, then shot one foot out in a quick, devastating kick to the already strained ankle, and everyone heard that snap as the bone gave. For a minute, Ichigo sat blankly until the pain caught up with his addled mind. He screamed, staring down at his now horribly broken ankle.

"Yammy, bring me a hit, he's in pain, we can't have that, can we?" he asked.

"Of course not, sir," Yammy said, reached behind him and handing him a syringe.

Aizen kneeled over his panting form, holding the needle up. Ichigo's eyes got round and he shook his head violently. "No! I don't want it anymore!"

"Oh, you tried to give it up? Not a good idea, because this is going to be your only escape for the rest of your miserable existence, which ends when I decide it does," he said softly, and slid the needle into his struggling arm.

A moment passed and his head flopped back to the floor and he felt all the pain and hurt go away at once. He moaned at the ecstatic pleasure that coursed through his veins. It was a high dose, more than he ever used, and after going without, it hit him hard. Just on the edge of being too much. His head lolled to the side, his eyes wide, dilated, and unseeing.

"Ready the car, quickly. After I'm gone, shoot them. But wait until I'm gone. I can't be connected with this place," Aizen said, leaving Ichigo on the floor, his head still bleeding badly.

Karin reached out with her foot and pushed on his head. "Ichigo! Get up! You have to get up and get out of here!" she whispered fiercely.

But all that met her gaze were wide empty eyes. If he was even conscious of the world, there was no indication. She looked to her sister, who met her with an equally frightented expression. A moment later, the man called Aizen returned with a couple of large men, and had one of them pick up Ichigo and toss him over his shoulder and left with him. He smiled and looked at Yammy.

"Yammy, you've been a good sport, so you can do what you want before you kill them. Just as long as they're both dead by the morning," Aizen said.

Yammy turned to them with a leer on his face. Karin gasped. "Stay away, you fucking pedophile!"

He only chuckled as he advanced on the girls, his gun left at the desk and his eyes hazed with lust and malevolence.

"Grimmjow, a car is leaving the residence, should we follow?" came the call on the radio.

"Fuck yes, you fuckin' follow!" he barked, frowing at the stupidity. One or all of them could be in there. "Could you tell the occupants?"

"Driver and one in the back that we could see, but it came from a garage. Should we detain?"

"No, just follow, we're about to breach the house now, hopefully it will be all three of the targets. For now, do not lose that car, understood?" he said, growling deep in his throat.

"Aye, sir!" came the response.

He turned his attention to the people that had just showed up and set up the operation. Once everyone was in position, which took nearly no time because they knew what they were doing, they were sent in. And then it was over almost before it began. Grimmjow kicked down the last door in the house, the men outside cuffing several men, and another team descending the stairs into the basement.

He found himself facing a very large man and a grin spread across his face because he was about to lunge at him. Grimmjow dropped his own gun and met the huge man fist for fist. The fight was fast and viscious, but the larger man only had size on his side. Grimmjow knew how to take down men like this. And he did ti fast, the hulking man bleeding and unconscious on the floor. He glared at his bloody knuckles and shook his head. It had felt fucking fantastic.

He turned his attention to the two terrified girls. Well, one was terrified; the other just looked pissed off. "Go after him! That Aizen guy took him!"

Grimmjow groaned. Of course, it wouldn't be that easy. He grabbed his radio. "We have second, third target safe, first target has left the scene. Team one was on his tail, report please?"

"Confirmed. Target located," came the soft reply. "Please advise. They are entering an aircraft hangar, target appears unconscious."

Grimmjow rubbed his nose. "Wait for us there."

He dropped the radio and dug out his phone, dialing quickly. "I need a flight hold on all flights. Yes, I'm serious. I don't know how long. We have a suspect attempting to flee the country. Commercial and private, yes." He talked for a few more minutes and then clapped the phone shut.

"Let's get you two out of here," he said, grabbing a handcuff key from his belt and releasing the two girls. "Are you okay? Did he hurt either of you?"

Grimmjow was shocked when the brown haired one grabbed him in a frantic hug. "Please, you have to save brother, after…after what…what they did to him…please…"

Grimmjow frowned and then looked up to see the TV and the case beside it loaded with hand labeled DVDs. He swallowed again. "No, he didn't…he showed…"

The tears were all the confirmation he needed. He pulled the girl close. As if they weren't traumatized enough. "He was going to kill us," Karin whispered. "Aizen said he could do whatever he wanted as long as we were dead by morning."

"Detective!" came a call from the hallway.

"What?" He asked, annoyed.

"Sir, this…this is where they filmed, and there's about five kids downstairs locked into rooms. Don't know how old they are, but we're going to need a special team for this. The entire basement is…"

Grimmjow nodded. "Ichigo kept saying something about the basement," he said softly. "My guess this is where he was kept too."

"Bring in who you need, I've got a kid to get back from Aizen, fuckin' bastard," he said, looking at the girls. "Let's get you to yer dad, okay? Then I'm going to get yer brother back, and tear that fucker Aizen limb from limb if I can."

Karin looked at him a serious look in her eye. "Do that. Do exactly that. Because if you don't kill him, I'll do it when I'm old enough and strong enough. If he doesn't die, I will make it my life mission to destroy him by any means necessary."

Grimmjow nodded curtly, escorting both girls from the house as the crime scene units came onto the scene. He looked around. It was a nice neighborhood. Houses, picket fences, and no one probably knew the horrors that went on in that seemingly normal looking little house. He handed them to a uniform and took off for his car. He had a strawberry to get back.


	6. Chapter 6: A Kept Man

**Chapter Six**

A Kept Man

* * *

His first thought was that he felt really, really good. That was until a sharp pain struck up his leg. He groaned then, his head rolling to the side. He tried to move but found himself unable. He opened sticky eyes from the familiar haze of a high. He found himself staring at Aizen. He looked up to see he was secured by his wrists to a bed. "The fuck?" he snarled at Aizen.

"Welcome to our home, my sweet. You are now my personal slut, and you'll be going nowhere from now on unless I decide it. I've been grooming you your entire lifetime for this, you should be proud. You no longer have to work the streets, only me to satisfy, and no more Yammy looking over your shoulder. You are now a kept man," he said, standing and moving silkily to the bed to sit down.

"Fuck you, I don't want this, now let me go!" he said, yanking harshly on the handcuffs.

"Oh I always loved that fire in you. But don't push me too far, sweet lover," he said, tracing fingers across his chest and down his belly. He growled and jerked away.

"Fuck you and Yammy and all of you! You took away my family twice now. I'll get out and go back!" he spat.

Aizen smiled. "Well, that won't happen. Yammy already put a bullet in your sisters, and I'm sure your father is currently very upset that he ever brought you home. Now, we're far away, and you won't be going anywhere unless I take you."

He couldn't help it. Tears filled his eyes and he felt like he was something lower than mud. He'd gotten his sisters killed. They were dead because of him. He may have pulled the trigger on the gun himself. He slumped back, only to have a moment's notice before his mouth was attacked by Aizen's domineering tongue. There was no resistance in him, he was too shocked at what he'd said, but then he was angry and bit down on the intruding muscle as hard as he could. This elicited a yelp and Aizen's mouth was gone, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

"You'll regret that. I was going to be nice, and give you pleasure as well, but I'm afraid that that won't be the case now," he said, lapping the blood on his chin.

One fast punch had Ichigo's head spinning, as he felt his pants being ripped from him. As his head cleared he arched his back in pain as Aizen had taken and wrapped a hand around the ankle he'd broken. He used it to maneuver his legs up onto his shoulders and he tried to pull away.

"Fuck, no, not like this!" he cried, knowing what was coming. Even after years of the abuse, it still hurt to have someone go in dry and unprepared for it. The burning and tearing made him screech and he wasn't sure whether that or the broken bone hurt more. After a moment, the pain in his ankle was a memory compared to the harsh treatment he was getting. After a while he settled to sobbing until the stinging burn and wash of warmth filled him. Another thing he wasn't used to feeling, working the streets he never went without a condom. And this was absolutely disgusting and painful.

He pulled away and he felt the fluids draining and almost retched, knowing there was more blood than anything else after that.

"Here," Aizen said and tossed a blanket over him. "I'll clean you up eventually. Or maybe I won't."

He wasn't supposed to go in the bedrooms. Not at all. Even though he was a servant in the huge mansion. He stood on the deck and watched the waves. It was a small island off in the Atlantic. No one visited, yet tonight a helicopter had come in. He was curious because usually Aizen and his people came during the day, and generally they were accompanied with much fanfare of their island paradise.

So, Uryu found himself cleaning the hallways after a while, double checking that everything was in top condition for Aizen. He was the boss after all. However, Urya Ishida had a bad habit of being curious. Well, a bad habit if he ever got caught. And he didn't get caught. That was, after all, why he was here. Curious and careful. And when Aizen came from one of the rooms and swept off to his own bedroom down the hallway, he was curious. And when he was cleaning one of the hall tables and heard soft sobs coming from the room, he was very curious. He turned, tucking his rag into his belt and moved down to check on their employer. He opened the door carefully, prepared to use the excuse that he was seeing if Mr. Aizen needed anything. But instead he found him sound asleep in his massive bed.

So tonight he would satisfy this burning curiosity. But as he got closer he heard voices in the room. Aizen was sleeping, and all the servants had been instructed to leave the closed rooms alone. Only the open rooms were to be dusted and cleaned daily. And until yesterday, this room had been open. He snuck closer and listened quietly at the doorway.

"Aw, isn't he cute?" the tall man with an eyepatch said, grinning down at the orange haired slut on the bed.

"Aizen's had his fun for the night, I smell it on him," the second, a blond man. "Nnoitra, don't you think this is risky? I mean, if Aizen finds us messing with him…"

"Fuck off, Ilfort. Unless you or fucking Tesla go and tell him, he'll never know. So instead let's have our fun."

Tesla smirked. "Aizen brought the little slut back from his old stomping ground, so there must be something extremely special about him."

Ichigo was frozen at these three. "No, he said you couldn't do this…that he was the only one…"

The freaky tall one leaned forward. "He didn't bother to clean ya up when he was done, ya think he'll know if we've fucked ya into the bed while he was sleepin' beauty?"

Ilfort grabbed a towel. "Better gag him, to be safe."

Nnoitra snickered. "Gag him with yer fuckin' cock. I hear he's a fuckin' fantastic mouth fuck."

Before Ichigo knew it, the short blond was straddling his chest, forcing his way into his mouth. If he had any gag reflex left, it would have been triggered as his nose met the soft curls at the base. His eyes watered and he struggled to breathe. It wasn't like it was unfamiliar, it was very familiar, but it had been years since he'd been forced. And it hurt just as much as he remembered.

The tall guy managed to rip off the blanket and pull up his legs and slam into him with no warning causing him to arch and scream, but all that came out was a muffled hum.

"Hey, do that harder, Nnoi, he feels great when he tries to scream around my fuckin' cock," he said, holding tightly to his head.

"Hah, sure thing," he said as he continued to roughly ram into him abandon seeking his own release. It didn't take him long before he was flooding him with his own seed, and Ichigo wept around what was slamming into the back of his throat roughly.

He felt the first one leave only to be replaced by the second, but he was numb, everything was numb, and he just wanted a needle again to make it all go away. He heard vague mutterings and then his throat was filled, giving him no choice but to swallow the foul substance. He pulled away, leaving him gasping. He was dizzy and he knew he hadn't been getting near enough air. A final slamming, and the last one was finished with him. He sighed and continued to sob into his arm.

"Man, he's so tight, ya can't tell he's been a whore, except for that fuckin' mouth of his. You musta got paid a lot for the blow jobs, huh?" Nnoitra said, tossing his blanket back over him.

"The fuck you crying over, huh? Been a slut for how long? Just think of your payment is room and board, and if you fuckin' think of mentioning to Aizen we were in here, we'll slit yer throat and toss yer skeezy ass into the ocean," Nnoitra said, leaning over him. "I'll be back for ya tomorrow, I am dying to fuck that mouth of yers after Tesla got such a good time with it."

They exited the room, glancing both ways to make sure they weren't caught, and slipped away. Uryu came out of the shadows and quickly entered the room. He shut the door and waited to make sure he hadn't been heard and turned to see what had happened. His throat tightened at what he saw and he knew immediately that as horrible as it was, he had what he needed.

He moved forward and kneeled by the bed. The boy had his head buried in his arm as best as he could, and he flinched when Uryu's hand touched him. His head shot up and he stared at him with a wide eyed look. Uryu shushed him and reached up to unhook his hands slowly. He paused to check for noise and then quickly released the cuffs, careful to leave them in the position should he be interrupted and have to put them back on the kid.

"Who…who are you?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"My name is Uryu Ishida. I work here, and I heard what happened, I'm so sorry. What happened to you?" he asked, softly.

Ichigo swallowed. "I…I…" He stopped and sighed. "I deserve this. I really do."

He frowned, his fine brow crinkling. "No one deserves this, no one."

"Even if I've spent half my life fucking people for money?" he said softly.

Uryu frowned even deeper. "Unless you've been a prostitute since you were like ten, I doubt that…" He trailed off as thoughts clicked together. "How old are you?"

Ichigo ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the bright purple bruises that were forming on his wrist. "I'll be nineteen soon. Maybe."

"Shit, what's your name?" he asked quietly.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," he said softly, and Uryu's eyes went wide.

He reached up and ruffled the orange hair. "Ichigo? Is it you?"

"What? I'm not in the mood to discuss my illustrious career in child pornography, thank you," he muttered, picking at the blanket.

However, he suddenly found himself in a tight hug of this man he didn't know. But then, that had been happening a lot lately. He froze and then stared at him.

"I know you've been through hell, but you're part of the reason why I'm here, in Aizen's place. I'm your cousin, related to your mother. She was always my favorite aunt growing up. I'm a couple years older than you, twenty three, and when Aunt Masaki was murdered, we were all hurt, but then your dad moved after you were listed as a runaway. I never believed it. I remembered you too well," he said softly still, glancing about to make sure no one was there.

"I studied forensics and joined the FBI when I graduated early from school. I took up a post as a deep undercover to investigate Aizen. We've never been able to pin him, but now, thanks in part to you, we can," he said, embracing him again. "We've got to get you out of here. Tonight. I'm going to replace the cuffs, I can't let anyone know I've been in here, but I'm calling for extraction now."

He stood up and then sighed. "But I need to collect evidence first."

Ichigo looked up. "What?"

"Look I know it isn't the most wonderful experience, but we've got to get every bit of evidence to pin Aizen down. We may not be able to link him to much, but if I can get evidence of sexual assault…then we might pin him with that," he said, pulling out two pens. He twisted one open to reveal a set of collection swabs, and the other flipped open to be a camera.

"That's like some James Bond shit," Ichigo said, eyes wide. "But do what you have to do. I lost any semblance of shame a long time ago."

Uryu hid a shudder. But this is what he was here for. "I'll tell you before I touch, okay?"

A few minutes later, and a lot of uncomfortable squirming from Ichigo, Uryu snapped the caps on both pens and slipped them into his pocket, covering him up again. He nodded to him and check out the door.

"I'm sorry I have to leave you, but I have a procedure to follow. I'll be back when I can, okay?" he slipped out and into the dark hallway, resuming his duties. His shift was done in about fifteen minutes, so he headed back toward the kitchen to finish up evening rounds.

He felt horrible about leaving him like that. But if he was going to get him off this island that had no extradition agreements, he had to work fast and get the emergency extraction activated. There were only three reasons to activate it before the end of the assignment. Irrefutable proof of wrongdoing in the US, danger to the life of a civilian, or having cover blown, were the only three. He was hoping this counted as the first two.

Once his shift was over he picked up a cell phone and dialed a number. A buzz sounded on the other side and he punched in a code. He hung up and flipped the phone and removed the SIM card, dropping it into the fireplace. He then sat down and waited. He hoped that they would take the emergency part seriously, because he wasn't too sure how much that kid in the other room could take.

Grimmjow paced frantically. He was pissed off. Flaming pissed off. Even with the lockdown, a helicopter had managed to take off from the airfield and they had no idea now where it had gone to. Around the table in the conference room, Isshin, Urahara, Commissioner Kuchiki, Captain Kuchiki, and Renji waited for someone from the FBI to get there. They had already been contacted when the kidnapping across state lines had been brought up, but they had seemed content to let them handle it locally. Now they needed their help.

There was a soft ting as the elevator opened, two people coming out. Grimmjow arched a brow. One was a very tiny, petite woman with bright pink hair. The other was a hulking man with spiked black hair and an eye patch. The pink haired woman ran up the stairs to them and leaped up into a chair, followed by the lumbering man.

"Hello! I'm Agent Yachiru, this is Agent Kenpachi! We're from the FBI on this case!" she announced brightly.

The tall fellow fell into a chair. "Yachiru, do you have to be so perky at this time of the night…" he groaned.

"It's not night, its morning, Keni!" she announced. It was four am.

He glared at her. "It ain't morning until I've slept."

"Anyway, I'm well aware of everyone here, and I have news for you that might help out! One of our undercovers on one of Aizen's offshore mansions has requested emergency pick up. There are only a few reasons to do son, and one of them might have to do with your missing kid!" she said, thrumming with energy.

Kenpachi groaned. "Unless he got his fuckin' cover blown."

"Keni, he's been under for almost a year, Uryu is good at what he does," she said softly. Her voice seemed to calm the beast of a partner she had.

"So you think our boy might be there?" Grimmjow asked.

"We do. Emergency extractions aren't taken lightly, especially for someone as long undercover as Uryu has been. Iron clad evidence, a civy in danger, or blown cover. We're hopeful that because the timing coincides with the kidnapping, that it is a civy in danger, and that civy is one Ichigo Kurosaki," she was horribly cheerful. "Of course, some iron clad evidence would be nice too."

"So what do we do now?" Renji asked, leaning forward.

"Well, you can take part in the extraction team, as observers. I can't let you participate, of course, but it would help to have someone from this investigation team with us," she said looking around.

"I'll go," Grimmjow announced. Renji nodded, and he looked to the captain. She nodded her ascent.

The pink haired girl clapped with glee. "Yay, the blue guy! Let's go, Blue!" she announced, leading him away.

He grumbled but he was glad to at least do something. He was beginning to like the kid, dammit.


End file.
